Note: This is the second episode of my previous story - Gone with the wind. You can read or recap the first episode and return to this. Though, I tried to put enough context to this sequel.
His early morning erected crotch sat with much grandiose in his blue brief. To Grace, it was a sight to behold as she woke up earlier.
Even the sun rose from its slumber before Rock did from his. The stripes-and-shapes patterned sheets he had laid on the bed pulled at the hairs on his skin. He had hoped to bring his girlfriend home from the beach yesterday, but she broke up with him. Walking through the heavily stormy rain that drenched the life out of him, he found new breath on the lips of his best friend, who he eventually went to bed with.
After two eyelid flaps, his eyes finally opened. Pulling up the duvet to clad his slightly hairy chest, he peered around the room, looking to make an immediate sense of reality. Being a one-bedroom apartment, it was easy to locate the woman whose bosom he rested in through the night.
Seated over there in one of his button-up shirts, Grace read a book she picked from his work desk. His movements on the bed certainly sifted into her attention, seeing as she turned her laser focus to him – her face expressionless. She didn’t know what to expect from him in the morning after a steamy no-sex night.
“You look cliché in that shirt, you know.” Rock sat up. “In a pristinely beautiful sort of way.”
“Yo bro! I know ‘pristine’ was the a-word-a-day word for yesterday. You can’t use that on me.”
“What’s the point of learning such a beautiful word if I can’t use it on my loved ones?”
Rock knew this was all a mistake. Even if he did love Grace, he should have let some time pass. Letting himself get sucked into a sexual tension powered by heartbreak was a terrible decision. A terrible past decision. Nonetheless, he had to try salvaging the aftermath, even if it meant maintaining his witty self while his insides felt rotten. He was succeeding.
She chuckled in her seat as she placed the bookmark on the twenty-fourth page of ‘Atomic Habits.’ Then she turned in the chair after a brief silence.
“You had to add a ‘s’ to that word, right?” Her words were more accusatory than questioning.
“Which word?” he was now scrolling through WhatsApp messages, hoping that Dami had left a message via either of her phone numbers. None.
“Loved ones. You could simply have said ‘loved one.’”
His mind tracked back to his words. What's the point of learning such a beautiful word if I can't use it on my loved ones? Mindless, free talks had always been what they shared. Either of them not having to think through conversations, not being careful with words, or trying to find the perfect words. That's what their friendship had been about, and it had worked pretty well for them. Who wanted a best friend they'd have to walk on eggshells around?
But now, Grace’s question suddenly made the wall feel closer. Considering what had happened between them the previous day and late into the night, she had a point. She was asking for a definition of their new reality without specifically saying, 'what are we now?' Impressive of her! But he knew better than to answer unprepared. Grace lived like a soldier – she picks a whiff of something and runs with it all the way. So, he had to pick his words right for the first time. Even though Rock emphasized the need for an early-morning conversation during the previous night's escapades, he wasn't ready. “We’ll talk about this tomorrow morning, right?” he had said the previous day before her tongue and his’ became one.
There was only one solution to the awkward silence persisting through the mud fight of thoughts in his head. Deflect!
“Do you know what time today’s Singapore Grand Prix will start?” he asked, hopeful that she would play along and grateful that his trouser was close. It was too early in their now-undefined relationship to expose her to the intimidating sight of the morning erection inside his brief. Or so he believes.
"No, I don't," Grace answered. A soft frustrating sigh. She knew what he was doing – trying to switch topics, but let it slide. Up to her feet, she sent a WhatsApp message to Ayodele – a new friend she made at church who recently joined the Media Team service unit. She flung the phone to the bed and made for the bathroom door that hung her clothes. Rock watched on at her swiveling backside in newly-discovered awe. “Wait, what did you mean by I looked ‘cliché’ earlier?” she said as she eased her dress off the door.
He smiled. She was aiding his deflection. Could she have given up on wanting to know the state of things between them? If he had his way, he would ignore the promised conversation and simly continue being friends with her. But it wasn't that simple. He knew Grace. She was assuredly coming back. For now, though, he would let her dance to his deflection tune.
“You know all those movies where the girlfriend spends the night with her boyfriend and walks around with his big white shirt the next morning…” It was at this point he knew he had messed up. He just circled back to the conversation he wanted to avoid. The spirit must be willing.
“So, am I your girlfriend now?” her head popped out from the bathroom, with a broad I got you smile on her face.
“Am I your boyfriend now?” Rock replied with a question after a few seconds of hesitating. “As far as I can remember, you’ve always fantasized about a grand ‘will you be my girlfriend’ event from whoever will ask you out. And I don’t think I’ve done anything remotely close to that in the past few hours of this.”
"For every law, there's an exception." Her eyebrows raised alongside a head tilt while she packed her hair to the front of her left shoulder. The tiny braids glimmered.
“Don’t compromise your standards for the sake of love. So you don’t regret things later.”
“Says the guy who used to say ‘big busts or nothing’ only to fall for a lady that needs push-up bras to make a reasonable mammary gland impression.” The shut bathroom door muffled her voice a bit, but he heard her loud and clear.
A bit of chuckle escaped his throat as he picked up her phone that had just beeped. He had some pending pictures to airdrop from their last Sunday after-service photo shoot.
"I wonder what makes you think I've fallen for you, though." He knew she was referring to Dami but wouldn't afford her such a win.
Anyways, nothing she said in response to his last words found its way to his eardrum as his mind got crowded out by the message displayed on the notification panel of her phone.
Grace!!! I got the girl. Damilola Praise Ajenifuja is mine. She said...
The name was eerily familiar to Rock that he soon found himself expanding Grace’s WhatsApp app. The first name. The surname. The middle name. There! A flurry of messages was exchanged with this Ayodele, but the last message from him left him in a wormhole.
Grace!!! I got the girl. Damilola Praise Ajenifuja is mine. She said yes today after the first service.
That can't be his Dami. It couldn't be the Dami that dumped him yesterday, could it? It was certainly not the Damilola Praise Ajenifuja he dated for three years. Saliva exited his mouth and turned to tears on their way to his eyes. His tongue lost the power of speech for a brief moment, and the air-conditioner at room temperature suddenly made everywhere colder. His fingers succumbed to reflexive movements, and pain seared through his buttered-up heart with a hot iron. He scrolled up, and scrolled up, and scanned through chats spanning months of how she was advising Ayodele on how to get the girl.
It took a call from Grace for Rock to snap back to earth, his eyes flooding his face with tears like a broken dam.
“What’s wrong?” she asked, all the concerns in the world underlying her two words.
“What’s wrong?” he teary-ly managed to say.
“Yes, you’re crying.” She wondered what was on her phone that could warrant his tears.
Devil. She caused it. She caused Dami to break up with him. She was behind the whole thing. She made Dami leave him so she could be the only one he saw. Devil.
“Why? Why, Grace? What did I do so wrong?” he questioned painfully in distress. “Why?!”
His roar sent her shivering as she grappled with the phone to figure out what he had seen. There. Ayodele’s message of victory. Oh shit! Shit! Shit!! Shit!!!
“I can explain, Rock. Please calm down.” She palmed towards him, making her way to the bed.
His body flung to its knee on the bed. His fiery eyeballs seethed destructively at hers'. Anger, pain, and every shade of distraught filled them to the brim. But first, more questions.
“What the fuck do you want to explain?” his wave, violent. “Uhn? What stupid explanation do you want to give me? How you made a fool of me? How you betrayed me? Or how you must have felt victorious to get me moaning to your ears yesterday? Tell me, bitch!”
Her heart relocated to her mouth. Her eyes couldn't take in more light. Darkness she didn't know existed descended into the room.
“Devil! Get out! Just fucking get out of my room. Get out of my sight, Grace.”
Her weighty tears were pregnant with regrets. This wasn't how everything was meant to play out.
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See you in episode 3. Next week.
Please don't extend it beyond next week 🙏
Thank you
Please don't extend it beyond next week 🙏
Thank you